


Between Worlds

by Kira_K



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Case Fic, Gen, Somewhat, Swearing, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 12:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1226488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kira_K/pseuds/Kira_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almost Human AU - John Kennex is a werewolf. This doesn't really change anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Worlds

John, who couldn’t change back then to save his leg and doesn’t dare to do it since then because the laws changed and he should be registered and collared and fuck that shit.

If the Captain does not deem it necessary to report him as a were then John won’t volunteer the information. They both know he won’t lose his shit and go feral - not if he didn’t lose control at _her_ betrayal or at the loss of his limb. (It is possible that Maldonado forgot about this particular point in John’s old file but he doubts that.)

He still has to change sometimes but he has no prostethic wolf leg and jumping around on three legs gets old fast so he doesn’t leave his apartment. He just shifts, paws around to make sure he still can, even if it is painful and humiliating, then he curls up on the top of his bed and goes to sleep. But he does not change in public. He doesn’t go to the park to run. He absuletly doesn’t go outside the city, behind the wall where people would be still afraid but way more hungry - meat is meat and werewolves are counted a separate sub-species so it wouldn’t even feel cannibalism for the poorest.

So he takes care of his needs in a perfunctory way (like masturbating under the shower) and hardly ever thinks about tearing out somebody’s throath with his teeth.

And then he makes the mistake of commenting on how their suspect might be a werewolf if one takes into consideration their speed and visciousness and the marks on the victim and Dorian asks a fuckload of leading questions that John can hardly answer without releaving that he knows everything about the weres because he is one as well. There is a knowing look in the android’s eyes, fucking too smart machine who probably took a sample of his blood or spit or semen and tested them for lycanthropism and now everything would fall apiece, fuck! But he cannot bring himself to kill Dorian, not when they became somewhat friends and fuck it all, he would need to register, won’t he?

He waits warily for the shit to hit the fan. A day passes. Then another. And another. And Dorian, it seems like, kept mum. John dares to breathe again and slowly rekindles their conversations during the drive and soon they talk as if there was no big-ass-furry secret between them. Both of them know better but if Dorian can pretend, so can John.

They do detective work, the kind that John was always good at, making connections seemingly out of the blue, and they have solid proof and data at the end of the week. They corner their culprit (suspect, innocent until proven guilty, he reminds himself, even though there are a shitton of evidence) at a seemingly abandoned warehouse at the edge of the wall. They call for back-up before heading in slowly, carefully.

Dorian leads the way because he is less likely to be out of commission if the bullets start flying and John is at his heels, goddamn eager to catch this sonovabitch.

The police surround the building and they canvas the inside and there are no signs of living men anywhere. John gets frustrated and angry at himself, for they must have missed something or must have betrayed their presence somehow — when he stops mid-step. There was a noise, a scrap against metal. Soft steps, softer than any man could manage and John dives to the side as a hundred-and-sixty pound wolf jumps at him from the ceiling.

White teeth snap against his arm which he brought up to protect his neck and sharp claws slash against his vest. John snarls like he never does in mixed company and the wolf freezes for half a second.

A shot rangs out and the wolf whines as the bullet lodges itself into its hindleg. John puts his back into a shove and throws the wolf off; and Dorian aims again, another incapatating but not killing shot.

Their back-up has tranq guns and the wolf is ou tcold before the minute is over.

John pants and sits up slowly. “Thanks for saving my life,” he says to Dorian. There are medics outside and he should make sure that his ribs are in once piece after the wolf dropped on him.

"Think nothing of it, John," Dorian replies in that annoyingly cheerfull tone of his. He offers a hand and John accepts it. "Though I’m curious…"

John eyes him warily, sure that he will regret whatever question Dorian asks. He is right.

"Do you now consider me your alpha, seeing I bested you?"

"Fuck off," John bites out as loud as he can with aching ribs. "You didn’t best me and the time I accept an order from you without question is the time I am braindamaged."

"Sad, there is no brain to be damaged," Dorian quips and dodges the half-hearted swat. They are still bickering when the medics make noises about examining John.

~end

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Manowar's Loki God of Fire.  
> Kudos, comments make my day.
> 
> (Reading it again I noticed a few typos. Please, feel free to point out any I missed.)


End file.
